Sunday interlude
by canijust-saysomethingcrazy
Summary: Sundays are for walks in the park, and good memories.


**Note: Sooo. I know today is Monday, but it's also and most importantly my friend Marijn's birthday and I felt like publishing a little something I'd written a while ago for the occasion. Have a great one, girl! This one is for you :)**

 **Also, this may or may not be the beginning of another wave of inspiration, and it miiight mean a sequel to** ** _Thus From My Lips, By Yours, My Sin Is Purged_** **could come up at some point. I haven't really decided yet, so stay tuned, and for now, I hope you're happy a little, fluffy one-shot.**

/

From a very young age, Manuela had considered Sundays to be quite peculiar. Throughout her life, these days had always elicited all sorts of mixed feelings within her and even now, she was not sure what exactly to make of it. As a child, it was a day she expected with natural eagerness, knowing it would be spent playing outside with her brothers and reading stories with Mama. Back then, Sundays only conveyed promises of peacefulness and laughter that Manuela revelled in, although unconsciously. Sundays had become excessively grimier as she had started to grow older, and particularly after her mother's passing. They were either too short or too uneventful, and ultimately a painful reminder of happier times that would never return. Later still, as she had been treading about the stern halls of her boarding school in Potsdam, Prussia, Manuela had started developing an almost symptomatic anguish around that time of the week where she had to bear the unspeakable sight of her beloved Fräulein von Bernburg leaving. As a matter of fact, Manuela had come to understand the intensity of her fondness for her teacher on a Sunday evening, as she had found herself unable to do anything but to stare out the window for the whole day, silently praying that the woman would not get any ideas of fleeing this horrible place forever –at least not without her. She had escaped in the end, and thankfully she had not left her behind. All these years later, as she was now calmly strolling through the park with the very same woman at her arm, Manuela decided that Sundays were not so bad, after all, as long as they were spent with Elisabeth. She eyed her out of the corner of her eye, admiring the delicate profile partly hidden under the sunshade she was carrying. The sun was exceptionally warm today, and Manuela regretted the thick navy blue skirt and high collar blouse she had donned this morning. For her part, Elisabeth had chosen to wear a vaporous, half sleeve old rose summer dress which made it quite difficult for the younger woman to look away. She was wearing her hair in a slightly looser bun than usual, and a few brown strands were floating softly around her with the wind, giving her an indescribably ethereal aura. _Venus, the goddess of love_. Manuela almost laughed out loud as the words from her old classmate came back to her out of the blue, but the vision was too striking to laugh. She felt a rather characteristic warmth creep up her cheeks, and not just because of the weather, she would have willingly admitted if asked. Her fingers tingled with want as she imagined letting her hand travel to Elisabeth's lower back to feel the warmth of her skin just underneath the flimsy fabric, and leaving it there as they walked together. Of course, this was out of the question, and the realisation abruptly darkened her mood.

"What is going on in that head of yours?" Elisabeth asked, bumping their shoulders playfully.

Manuela shouldn't have been surprised by the question. It was common for Elisabeth to enquire about her thoughts or feelings. She imagined that her unshakable melancholy, as much as her quickly changing emotions could sometimes give the other woman pause, to the point she would question her happiness. In truth, Manuela was often worried, regularly restless but she was also and most of all utterly happy, and she refused to let Elisabeth think otherwise.

"Oh, nothing… Just appreciating a nice Sunday," she provided with a vague wave of her hand and a smile, hoping it would suffice to reassure the woman. To her relief, Elisabeth smiled in return and pressed herself closer to her, as much as appropriate for two women walking in a park filled with people. A shimmer of white caught Manuela's eye and she covered the hand gripping her arm, letting her fingers brush discreetly over the ring as her own golden band also shone in the sun. She felt another smile tug at her lips, completely genuine this time. It sounded positively unreal, fanciful even, and still Elisabeth was now her _wife_. Oh, they were not married in the eyes of the law, but they had exchanged rings and vows, and promised to love and support each other until death did them part, and thus, for all intents and purposes, Elisabeth was her wife. Images of her "proposal", came back to her and she chuckled, recalling this late May evening –a Sunday, too, as it happened- in that very park, and the subsequent hour and a half spent on hands and knees, looking for the unfortunate ring that had fallen in the grass. A few weeks later, their wedding ceremony had taken place here too in the still of the night, with Ida serving as self-proclaimed officiant, witness and maid of honour, simultaneously.

"I had no idea Sundays were this funny," the other woman said again, a mirthful eyebrow shooting up.

"They are. Especially when they involve me proposing and then ruining the mood by almost losing the ring forever," Manuela replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh darling. You know, this was strangely comical, but also very sweet. And you found it back," Elisabeth said very seriously as her gaze fell upon this ring she cherished so much.

Manuela, too, let her eyes study the precious gold band topped with a discreet but lovely diamond. She remembered fondly the moment Elisabeth had seen it in the store front of a small antique shop as they were strolling down Manhattan.

 _Her usually resolute step had slowly lost speed until she had come to a complete halt in front of the shop, and for a split second, her eyes had surveyed the small ring with uncanny melancholy, completely glossing over all the other much more extravagant, much more expensive jewels._

 _"Elisabeth, what is it?" Manuela had asked, automatically frowning like she always did when she suspected something was bothering the woman she loved._

 _"This ring. It looks just like my mother's…" she had said in an absent-minded whisper, gaze still fixed on the object. Then, she had shaken her head as if to physically bring herself back to reality and let out a short, mechanical laugh. "Anyway, this is silly. Let's get going."_

 _Elisabeth had never once mentioned the ring again, and they had not passed by the small antique shop together after that. But Manuela had. Actually, after this evening, Manuela had started walking by the shop almost every day, even though the neighbourhood was nowhere near from work or home. She was not sure why, exactly, but something seemed to be pulling her towards the small jewel, and it was not until one evening, as she had stepped into the boutique and asked to see the ring in her still tentative English, nervously clutching at a bag containing several months' worth of savings, that she had finally understood. She wanted Elisabeth to be hers. Fully, undeniably hers. And if she was going to propose, she would do it right._

"Well, it _is_ a nice ring," the younger woman admitted with a shrug as they resumed walking arm in arm.

"There is no nicer ring in this world," Elisabeth whispered quickly, passionately.

Manuela could not help the satisfied lopsided grin that appeared on her face.

"It's only fitting. The nicest ring for the loveliest woman," she said, and before Elisabeth could react, she leaned forward to place a quick kiss against her open mouth.

"Manuela!" she hissed before swiftly turning around to make sure no one had caught this dangerous display of affection.

The blush quickly spreading on Elisabeth's neck and cheeks was as delightful as it was tempting and Manuela could not resist placing another kiss against the delicate skin of her throat.

This time, Elisabeth took a step back, positively scandalised but also rather visibly inflamed.

"Will you stop this? Are you trying to get us both in trouble?"

"Sorry –I just," she grumbled.

"I know," Elisabeth nodded indulgently, but quite definitely, letting her fingers close around Manuela's arm again and prompting them to resume their stroll. She studied Manuela's still visibly frustrated face and after a few minutes of silence between them, she leant to the side, letting her cheek brush against the younger woman's shoulder discreetly.

"Why don't you take your wife home so we no longer have to worry about being careful," she whispered in her ear, smiling to herself at Manuela's sharp intake of breath.

The younger woman knew she probably sported a rather obvious blush on her cheeks, but she decided not to worry about it as she led them both through the crowd and out of the park with enthusiastic strides. As it turned out, Sundays spent with Elisabeth were not so bad, indeed.


End file.
